


Love, Honor, and Sacrifice

by danceswithhamsters01



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, alistair - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 08:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15926270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: An AU of my female Amell's time as a Grey Warden. She fell in love with Alistair instead of a certain someone else. What do you do when you find the one person you've always wanted but duty demands that you cannot keep them?





	Love, Honor, and Sacrifice

She became aware of the little grains of sand falling from the top to the bottom of the hourglass, gathering in an ever-growing pile, from the moment she'd learned the truths, one after another.    
  
Her friend, her brave, sweet friend, who deserved far better than life had seen fit to give him, was a prince. He'd kept that hidden, feeling shame for being a bastard, for being the product of a moment of weakness of his parents. He had no prince's upbringing, no family who cared for him or attendants to watch over him, no one who cared for young Alistair. Instead, he'd been handed off to an Arl, who let the lad work the stables, who let his new wife's loathing of the innocent boy result in the child being packed away to an abbey at far too young an age. His fate had been decided for him, with no care for what he wanted. He'd kept all that hidden because… because he'd just wanted to be liked for who he was, not where his blood had come from.    
  
She didn't understand. She couldn't understand. What sort of heartless creature could hate that brave, loyal, sweet man? Who could hate a child so badly as to sentence him to a life that was worse than growing up in a Circle? At least in the Circle, she'd had friends, people had cared, she'd had her master who was more a surrogate father than a teacher. He'd had… none of that. Surely a child, legitimate or not, deserved at least as much, if not more?    
  
He was hers, but not for keeps. She knew that even as he'd offered the rose and followed it with a kiss. She knew that even as he held her in his arms that first night together in the tent. She knew and it hurt. It tormented her, but she couldn't say no, not to him. Every time she looked into those soft brown eyes, she saw everything she'd ever wanted. To the Void with titles and privilege, she only wanted the man himself.    
  
Happiness was for other people, not mages. And yet she dared to taste it, greedily savoring every happy moment as if it were a stolen treat, knowing each one could be the last. He was royalty, and one such as her would never be accepted openly at his side. They were in a war, in a Blight, they were Grey Wardens. Duty would always win. It would always have to win. If not, the kingdom, and then the rest of the world as they knew it, would come to ruin. What did the desires of two otherwise unimportant people matter in the face of so many innocent lives at risk?   
  
Duty to the kingdom won in the Landsmeet. He took the crown, even if it was not at all what he wished. Cailan was dead. Anora had tried to arrange for the murder of her own rescuer, his beloved and fellow Warden. Loghain had been executed for his crimes against King, country and Grey Wardens. There was no one else left that the nobility would accept to lead them. Duty demanded he part ways with the only thing, the only person, he'd ever wanted.    
  
The conversation afterward, in front of all of their companions, hurt. She wished it had been in private, just the pair of them. Couldn't they have at least that much as they said goodbye for the last time? No harsh words were exchanged, no voices were raised. Only soft, sad words. Duty demanded a queen, one the nobles would accept, and heirs to carry on the bloodline. Things she was forbidden from doing or could not give him. She wanted to scream, to shout, to cry, but would not. She knew he hadn't been hers to keep.    
  
The quiet voice, the reluctance to look him in the eye, the lack of a fight. Those had stolen the places of the crooked smiles, the fire in her belly he admired and the adoring gaze he'd grown accustomed to, it hurt him worse than any blade in the heart could have. She had bowed deeply and wished him well before leaving to make plans with the Orleasian Warden, Riordan. She still had a duty to attend to, one that could not be shrugged off.    
  
Later in Redcliffe, another truth came. A Grey Warden would have to forfeit their life, their soul, to end the Archdemon leading the Blight. She did not hesitate in offering to make the deathblow. Who better to do it than a mage, one of the cursed lot who'd brought the Maker's wrath upon the world? She ignored the look of pain on the King's face. It was not his concern, not anymore. He had a duty to the kingdom. She had a duty to the world. In War, Victory. In Death, Sacrifice. Both were needed. She would not shirk.    
  
That night, friend and sister of spirit, Morrigan, came to her with a solution, of sorts. The one making the deathblow could be spared if a ritual were performed. But it required something the Warden could not give. The king, however, could. Her heart stung at Morrigan's harsh words when the Warden turned down the offer. What the Witch was asking for was not hers to give, and was not something she would ask of the king, not even to save her own life. Such a thing should be done of his own will, with no… no… pleading involved, especially not from someone who had loved him. That would have been manipulative. No. She respected the one she'd loved too much to put that weight on him. What would come the next day was hers alone to bear.    
  
When it came time to defend the capital, the King refused to be parted from the Warden. There was no time to argue. It felt comforting, to fight side by side, as they made their way to first the darkspawn generals and then finally the top of Fort Drakon. Riordan had given his life to cripple one of the Archdemon's wings, forcing it to the fort's roof. There, the army fought with all their might to weaken the beast, which they did at great cost. 

 

The last grain of sand from the top of the hourglass had reached the bottom.    
  
Grabbing a great-sword and drawing a deep breath, the Warden prepared to make a running strike when the King stopped her with a hand over her heart.    
  
"Wait. Let me. There's no need for you to die. This is my duty. I should be the one to kill it."    
  
Tears stung her eyes. Unwelcome tears. "Your duty is to the people, the kingdom. You're going to be king."    
  
"I do want to be king. I didn't, but now I do. And I want to be a good king. And this right here is the best king I could be, my first and last act being to stop the Blight before it really starts. No one could blame me for that, could they?"   
  
Maybe others could forgive that, but she couldn't. She wouldn't. "That's not the only reason and you know it!"    
  
"You're right. I know how I feel about you. I won't let you die, not when I can do something about it."   
  
"No. No, this is crazy."  _ Fool. IDIOT. No. NO!  _ He needed to live! This was her burden!    
  
"Sanest thing I've ever done."   
  
He leaned in for a last kiss. Her heart broke into even smaller pieces as their lips met.  _ Forgive me, my love, _ came the anguished thought as she quickly wove a spell to freeze his boots in place. Ice magic had always been eager to obey her, no words or gestures needed. The King had made himself an easy target by drawing so near to her.    
  
"The stories say that mages caused the Blights long ago. This awfulness is all our fault. It is only fitting that a mage end this Blight. This is my burden to bear, my duty. Th-thank you. For everything."    
  
She stroked his cheek before picking up her blade and charging the Archdemon. 

 

“Sevarra! NO! Please!” he cried. 

  
_ You cannot have him. My king will live, _ she thought as she plunged the blade into the beast's skull. There was bright, blinding light and a burning pain that assailed her entire body. She held on to the blade's hilt tightly.  _ He will live. He will live and be happy. You won't take anything from him, from anyone, ever again, _ she thought just before an explosion knocked her from her feet and nothingness claimed her. 


End file.
